Infatuation
by PhantomFanatic143
Summary: The Phantom struggles to win the affection of Christine since she has promised herself to Raoul, but even Christine can't ignore a strange sensation tugging at her heart. Christine has to choose...
1. Chapter 1

**_Hi guys! This is my very first fanfic (please, any advice would be awesome). I sincerely hope you enjoy it. :) Let me know_**

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Chapter 1

"**Go away for the trap is set and waits for its prey." **The Phantom sings in a quiet voice with a tinge of deviousness laced to each word. He moves slowly, sensually to Christine.

"**You have come here, **

**In pursuit of your deepest urge, **

**In pursuit of that wish, which till now, **

**Has been silent. **

**Silent."**

Keeping his eyes fixed solely on Christine. He stalks her, while she plays the part of his prey. Her eyes are scared and confused, mesmerised and awestruck. She plays her part well.

"**I have brought you,**

**That our passions may fuse and merge,**

**In your mind you've already succumbed to me, dropped all defences.**

**Completely succumbed to me.**

**Now you are here with me,**

**No second thoughts,**

**You've decided.**

**Decided.**

**Past the point of no return, no backward glances,**

**Our games of make-believe are at an end,**

**Past all thought of 'If' or 'When', no use resisting,**

**Abandon thought and let the dream descend."**

Her emotions start to coil and twist in her as she looks into the man's eyes that once inspired her voice, knowing what is expected of her, yet not knowing what she must do. The Phantom stalks ever closer walking past her in graceful strides, fixated with her beauty. In her heart she feels a slight tug of doubt.

"**What raging fire shall flood the soul?**

**What rich desire unlocks its door?**

**What sweet seduction lies before us?"**

Christine follows his every move with enchanted eyes. Her heart starts to run with his words. He moves swiftly, grasping his prey in his arms. Christine's mind is lost in the magic of his touch, starting at her throat, a soft but affirmative grasp, her back pressed to his body, his breath in her neck as he sings. Slowly his hands smooth's the skin of her arms with his touch until he reaches her hand, holding it in his grasp.

"**Past the point of no return, the final threshold.**

**What warm unspoken secrets will we learn?**

**Beyond the point of no return."**

Suddenly remembering that Raoul was attentively watching them from box 5, she takes her hand back as The Phantoms whisper the last words of his song.

"**You have brought me to that moment when words run dry,**

**To that moment where speech disappears into silence,**

**Silence.**

**I have come here hardly knowing the reason why,**

**In my mind I've already imagined our bodies entwining,**

**Defenseless and silent.**

**Now I am here with you,**

**No second thoughts, **

**I've decided.**

**Decided."**

As if to set Raoul's mind at ease she glances up at him while she sings. The Phantom follows her gaze, already knowing where her eyes have fallen. Inside her a battle is raging between her heart and her mind. The words she sings are no longer just mere words on a score, but actual fears, actual feelings. With every passing second her mind fights to overpower her heart, in vain.

"**Past the point of no return, no going back now!**

**Our passion play has now at last begun.**

**Past all thought of right or wrong, one final question,**

**How long should we two wait before we're one?"**

She starts walking, slowly, just as the opera requires. The stairs seem too distant, the people to many. With every step she takes The Phantom matches hers with pace and sensuality. The Phantom, stunned at her sudden vigour, stares at her intently and intimately as she sings. Still, mesmerised by Christine's voice, he marvels in the dream of her question. All doubts he had of her betraying him forgotten.

"**When will the blood begin to race?**

**The sleeping bud burst into bloom?**

**When will the flames at last consume us?"**

Finally they reach the top of their long climb. Christine is still in emotional chaos. Each word that was sung, either by him or her, was true. Each question, she knew, has also dwelled in her mind. Her Angel of Music, a murderer…

"**Past the point of no return, the final threshold.**

**The bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn!**

**We've passed the point of no return…"**

As their voices collided something fell into place. True to the words, they were past the point of no return. Her heart had won the seemingly unending war that raged between her mind and heart. Her heart was beating fast and uneven like a branch against a window in a torrent wind.

Throwing off his cape in one easy wave of his arm he moved cautiously to her. The Phantom and Christine lost in a beautiful ballad of words. In some small part of his mind he still wondered if she would reject him. He hated his face, he hated himself for taking the lives of so many innocents. But he knew if Christine rejected him he would not hate life, he would find a way to kill life. He couldn't fight the small sense of fear eating away at his mind.

They were close now, so close he could feel the warmth radiating off her. He grabbed her waist just as she placed her hands on his broad chest. Christine looked into The Phantoms eyes, green painted with a blue blush, pools of hurt and betrayal, layers of darkness covers his light. Poor misguided creature, the world has shown you no mercy, Christine thought. The Phantom turned Christine so that she was once again leaning with her back against his body. His hand was resting on hers on her abdomen. He slowly moved their hands over her abdomen up to her neck, hovering there a moment. Softly he starts to sing:

"**Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime,**

**Lead me, save me from my solitude.**

**Say you'll want me with you here beside you."**

Christine still revels in the joy and ecstasy The Phantoms touch brings to her body, too consumed in the flames of passion to clearly register the words he sings. With her eyes closed she succumbs to his voice. From the crowd of shocked viewers, Raoul watches his love give herself over to this thing. Tears gather in his eyes. I will not lose you to this deformation, Raoul promises. As the song progresses Christine starts to notice a familiar tune and suddenly realizes the direction his words are swaying to. Her eyes open fast, registration written in every feature. She turns to face him and he obliges her movement. He takes her hand in both of his, holding her hand close to his mouth as he sings.

"**Anywhere you go let me go too,"**

Christine wriggles her hand out of his grasp and places a hand on his cheek, while her other hand rests on his shoulder. She stares passionately into his eyes, the glistening of tears visible.

"**Christine that's all I ask of…"** The Phantom never finishes his declaration of affection for her. The crowd gasps and a few shocked women let out high pitched screams. Raoul was quite lost in his own world of confusion, watching the opera but not really looking. Knowing Christine surely did love this creature of darkness, this monster that hides his face like a coward. Knowing she loved him and that a piece of her would always belong to him. He wondered if he would ever inspire Christine like The Phantom could, when a woman screamed just below him. Leaning over the balcony of his box he noticed every face, pale and shocked painted across each face, was staring up at the makeshift bridge used for the production of Don Juan, The Phantom's play. One glance, one fleeting image was all he needed, but his eyes were intent on being cruel. Christine had her arm wrapped around the neck of The Phantom, her body fitting to his. His arms were wrapped around her waist, trying to pull her closer than she already was. And then, his eyes betrayed him. Her lips, her sweet, pink lips, the lips he ached to kiss every day, were caressing another man's. She had stopped The Phantom's song, not to rip of his mask as intended, but to kiss him.

"I am dreaming," The Phantom whispered. "This is a cruel joke of some sort on me. Giving me a taste of heaven, something I will never have."

Christine softly kissed him again, as if to discourage that thought from his mind. He clung to her, holding her waist tightly, out of fear she might disappear. She gently touched her fingers to the small of his neck. He trusted her. Her mouth was resting on his shoulder, close enough to his ear. She leaned in closer to his ear, whispering:

"**Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime.**

**Say the word and I will follow you"**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Hay guys! Thanks for 2 amazing reviews :) I'm sorry it took me so long to post a new chapter. I'm bad, I know. Anyway, let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions on how the story should play out, I'm all ears.**_

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Chapter 2

The Phantom realized that he would soon have to let Christine go. Starting to loosen his grip, he reluctantly moved out of her embrace. A puzzled expression flashed across Christine's face. In that one instant he was actually foolish enough to hope for a future with her, to earn her love. A fool you are, he thought, that she could ever love a creature as distraught as you.

He had heard the soft murmurs of his demise. He had heard the words Christine and Raoul had shared. He had heard the coldness in her voice when she sang of his murders, but he also remembered every verse that left her lips feeling pity for him. Even in her confession of love to Raoul she sang of him. You have to let go, he realized.

"I… Choose… You…" He froze, too unsure to move. Was it the whispers of an unanswered wish in the back of his mind? Or was he just going mad? Then he realized he was still holding Christine.

"I… Choose… You…"

This time he caught the way her lips moved when she spoke those 3 words. Unmeaning, small, petty little words, alone they meant nothing. Yet combined gave him courage, gave him strength. He wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her close and tight. Christine felt the muscle on his arm flex against her back and her breath caught. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on as if he was her life force.

"**Christine… Christine… I love you"**

A tear struck Raoul appeared with sword at the ready, his voice a song of painful agony. A mix of betrayal, anger, confusion, hurt and love was folded into each line on his face. The Phantom took hold of a nearby rope hanging from the roof and, while Christine hung on to him. He jumped over the makeshift bridge they still haven't moved from. They descended fast, but The Phantom was strong and they landed gracefully. Officers suddenly surrounded them, each pointing a rifle in his direction. Before any shot could be fired The Phantom gave a menacing, taunting laugh and, in the next instant, both he and Christine disappeared into the depths below. Christine looked around stunned at the sudden change of surroundings, when she felt a reassuring hand folded over hers… And then they were running.

"We have but a few minutes before they come looking for us," The Phantom said with a heaving voice. She couldn't help the movement of flutters growing in her stomach as she heard the way he was breathing, fast and loud.

"Where shall we go?" Christine wondered if they would ever truly leave the opera house, it has been both their save havens for far too long to just let it go.

The Phantom stopped. "Do you trust me?" he asked, somewhat testing her affection towards him.

"I do…"

"Then trust that I will do anything to protect you, that I will not hurt you and that I will keep you at my side no matter the threat."

She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to graze his lips with hers, to flush under the heat of his face.

"**Angel of Music,**

**Guide and guardian,**

**Grant to me your**

**glory.**

**Angel of Music,**

**Hide no longer.**

**Come to me, strange**

**Angel..."**

Christine sang, noting how fitting the words where to her current situation. She gripped his hand even tighter.

"**I am your Angel of Music...**

**Come to me: Angel of Music ..."**

The words he sang were no longer a manipulation of twisted lyrics, but a confirmation of her words. He acknowledged that he was her Angel. He no longer needed to lure her in with soothing words and sweet music, she was his.

"**Down once more to the dungeon of my black despair...**

**Down we plunge to the prison of my mind...**

**Down that path into darkness deep as HELL!"**

He hated fleeing; he despised being the weaker one. He did not want to be the hunted, rather the hunter. But the small hand clinging to his reminded him why he was running. Christine pondered a moment over his words. He thought he deserved to live in hell, she thought.

"**Angel of Music, you're no devil,**

**Why do you think that?**

**Angel of Music, light surrounds you,**

**You deserve heaven!"**

She waited to see if he'd realize that she thought of him as a true angel. If he noticed her indication that he was not a creature of the night, but an angel of the light. She could feel his hand tightening around hers. With a movement so fast and fluent she was pushed against the wall and left with The Phantom hovering over her. She gasped at the sudden new stance they had together. The Phantom stroked her cheek tenderly and she placed a hand on his bicep, feeling the way his muscle coiled as his hand moved on her face. He kissed her chastely, a whisper of a kiss. Then he gazed fondly into her eyes and opened his mouth as if he wanted to speak, but couldn't find the right choice of words.

"Christine," he finally whispered, "my name… Although I adore the way your lips curve when you say angel, I would love to hear the sweet song of my name leaving your lips."

Christine felt quite foolish for being the slightest bit shocked that her Angel of Music had a name, he was in fact human. Of course he had a name. Suddenly a parade of names marched through her mind and each one didn't quite fit. His, she knew, would be perfect.

He took a slight step back, bowing dramatically. "My name… Is… Erik." He refused to meet her eyes. He loathed that name, the only thing his mother gave him was a name and then she gave him up.

"Erik…" She tested his name. His eyes shot up to meet hers. "Erik," she said it again, this time a smile was laced in her voice.

He took a step closer, unsure of when physical affection should be given. He had never enjoyed the sweet sensation of flesh, and was afraid he might get drunk of it. But he was more careful toward Christine, for he didn't want to test the small chance at heaven he had too far.

She took hold of his arm and viscously pulled him closer. He had to spread out an arm against the wall, for he would surely have crushed her with the sheer force she pulled him. She forced his eyes to meet hers with a soft push upwards of his chin. And then she was kissing him. She had kissed him! What cruel trickery is this, Erik thought.

"**Track down this murderer,**

**He must be found!**

**Hunt down this murderer,**

**He must be found!"**

The hard pound of feet was echoing through the halls of his catacomb. He parted their kiss and heard the singing of hating voices.

"Come Christine, we must make haste for they will soon be upon us."

"And then we will be one?" she asked and saw the faint curve of a smile on his lips.

Pillars and wall mounted candle chandeliers covered in dust blurred by as they ran. Soon they reached the boat and he gently lifted her in. He rowed hastily but was sure not to let the water touch Christine. Thoughts of her kissing him still lingered on his lips.

"**Hounded out by everyone,**

**Met with hatred everywhere,**

**No kind words from anyone,**

**No compassion anywhere...**

**Christine...**

**Why, why...?"**

He had sung those words over and over staring at his reflection in the mirror. Each word was spat out with venomous anger and hatred towards his hideous face, but mostly towards the cruelty of people. But, this time, as he sung these words that were imprinted in his heart, he felt tranquil. He had finally felt the compassion of someone, finally felt the joyous sensation of beauty against his skin. He felt accepted.

"**Haunted by your own reflection,**

**You have felt no love.**

**Tortured by your own body**

**Never again, you are perfect."**

"You are perfect…" She whispered. Erik swore his heart almost jumped out of his chest with pride. She thought of him as perfect. How would he repay her…?

Christine marvelled at the home he created for himself, for the first time inspecting each detail. The red and gold drapes that covered most of the rock walls, the majestic organ that took up a big part of the ground and the mirrors that haunted his mind.

He quickly closed the gate and then gently helped her out of the swaying boat. The realisation that she was alone with him on different terms than her previous memory, made her nervous. Neither he nor she knew how to react. He had tried to woo her when she last was there, but now he had no need to persuade her. They stood and drowned in each other's eyes for some time. Abruptly Eric turned and walked into a draped section.

When he emerged again he had left his jacket and his shirt was loosened slightly; a few shy chest hairs peeking at her. She felt the flutter of wings in her stomach again, something, she realized, she had never experienced with Raoul. He walked with long, graceful strides to stand in front of her. He took her hand and placed the ring covered in blue gems in her palm and closed her fingers.

"**Christine…"** He sang her name, her beautiful name that tasted like honey melting on his tongue when it left his lips.

Christine looked at the ring for a moment and then threw the ring as far as she could into the water. Erik stood, not quite sure how to respond. Hurt starting to seep into the blue-green sea of his soul.

"I refuse to wear a ring given to me by any other man than you," she said.

He had momentarily forgotten that the ring he had just given to her was in fact the ring Raoul had promised her his eternity with. He felt foolish for his insecurities.

"Erik, kiss me." No woman had ever looked at him without being repulsed by his appearance, and here was a beautiful angel asking him to touch her lips with his.

"Kiss me." She said again, and he did.

It started out as soft and gentle kiss, but Christine longed for a passionate tango of lips. She pressed against his lips and quickened the pace. She felt the slight hesitation as he processed the change in her mood; he then obliged her by quickening his tempo as well. Their lips danced with a flare none of them had ever experienced; Raoul was intending to wait until they were wed before he would quicken things with Christine, and The Phantom had never experienced the warmth of a woman's love. Things stirred in both of them, warmth growing, a building sensation.

"**Track down this murderer he must be found! **

**Track down this murderer he must be found!**

**Hunt out this animal, who runs to ground! Too long he's preyed on us, but now we know, the**

**phantom of the opera is here deep**

**down inside! **

**He's here the Phantom of the Opera...**

**He's here the Phantom of the Opera..."**

The footsteps of imminent death were rattling in their wake. They parted to listen to the doom that came for them.

"Erik, where do we go?" Christine trusted him enough to know that he would not let them hurt her, but she did not trust the fact that he would not hesitate to risk his life for her. She couldn't go on without him, not now. She was past the point of no return.

He looked around with searching eyes until he found something hard and heavy and started smashing nearby mirrors. Suddenly a mirror gave way revealing a tunnel going into deeper darkness. He enveloped his hand around her fragile hand's frame, and they plunged into the darkness of the unknown. The red and gold drape fell behind them covering them in the cloak of the night.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Hay guys! Ok, this chapter was kind of hard. I struggled between how Raoul should react and how Erik should progress. Of course Erik will loosen up eventually, and Raoul might do something completely obscure. I am kind of disappointed with this chapter though. Let me know how you would like things to play out. :)_**

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Chapter 3

Raoul barged into The Phantom's home once they barred through the gate. He trudged through the shallow waters to the dry rock that served as the ground of The Phantom's home. He searched every draped of section, every curved rock, every high overhanging cliff. Frustration came and he screamed while pacing the waters when he stepped onto something that clearly didn't belong in the water. Through the rippling water he could make out something glistening in the murky water. He let his hand wander through the water and fished out a ring; the ring he had given Christine. A wave of despair washed over him. Did Christine ever truly love me, he questioned.

Madam Giry and her daughter, Meg, were there soon after and noticed the distraught state Raoul seemed lost in. Meg placed a consoling hand on his shoulder and squeezed before she went to search for a girl that she thought of as her sister. Christine had once told her of this strange Angel of Music that taught her from the shadows of the opera house. It sounded too strange to be considered true and yet, here they were searching for Christine who ran off with The Phantom.

"CHRISTINE!" A scream escaped a sorrowful Raoul and he fell to his knees, giving in to the heavy despair that filled his heart. He, once, sang a duet with Christine. It was simple and deep, but in that duet he could hear the love she felt toward him wasn't complete. He could hear the affection she felt toward this dark deformation of a monster. He had hoped that he could convince her that she would give herself to him, that he would be able to inspire her the way The Phantom did. He had hoped time would give her to him completely.

Raoul looked at the fragile ring he was still holding in his hand. It was perfect in every way; it suited the fragile complexity that surrounded Christine. He stared longingly at what could have been, imagining her hand folded in his as the ring sparkled on her finger. With a swift move he threw the ring against the nearest wall hoping it would break. Abruptly he turned around and stalked through the water towards the drapes carrying a torch.

"May the fire from this torch consume you and your lover like the passion you shared in my absence." His head swirled in blind anger as he wave the torch around like a drunkard waving his pint. Every pair of eyes was focused on the tedious movements of Raoul; shocked stiff for a few moments.

The loud clang of metal colliding against hard rock echoed through the cave. Raoul stared at the mess of ash as the last of the flames died on the ground. Let them be, he thought. Accepting his fate, he turned around with a heavy heart and slowly crashed through the water, moving further and further away from the painful remains of a once joyous memory.

Meanwhile, Christine was being dragged behind Erik. If he heard the mournful cry cascading though the tunnel, he didn't show it. She felt dirty for betraying Raoul and wished she had a chance to explain herself, although she doubted it would truly satisfy Raoul.

She wondered if they would ever find the broken mirror behind a heavy draped, concealing them in darkness or if they would ever escape the clutches of the hateful group of people threatening to kill Erik. She let herself be led by Erik, holding his hand tightly.

"**Let your darkest desires take flight…"**

Erik felt himself smile, truly smile, not only at the sound of Christine's voice, but also at the words she twisted to fit their situation. He slowed down to a mere stroll, while Christine started humming to herself. Erik had a sudden vision of her; glowing face with a rosy paint colouring her cheeks as her hand stroked the swollen belly bulging through her dress.

"Christine, do you see a future with me?" He had no true reason to ask this question for Christine had proven her love to him, but he longed for the confirmation of her devotion towards him.

"Why would you ask that of me?" In some way she felt shocked, but also relieved that he considered a future with her. "Erik, look at me, please?"

He turned to her, only making out her silhouette in the lightless tunnel. She placed a soothing hand on his good cheek slowly stroking it with her thumb.

"In all honesty, I did not see the true beauty of a future spent with you until tonight. My world shifted as we sang, my heart raced at the thought of what a future with you would hold. I dream of a world filled with music and love, a world where my darkest desires can take flight and where we need not worry about the cruelty of the world. Yes, Erik, I can see a future with you."

Christine was now holding Erik's face in both her hands; under her hands she could feel the muscles of his cheeks coiling to form a smile. The only addition that would've made that shared moment of blind happiness between them even better would've been to see the beauty of his smile, rather than only feeling the sensation of it.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered:

"I love you."

How had this woman, in mere months, driven him to break so many rules he swore by? He didn't cry; he never showed that kind of weakness or vulnerability towards anyone, and then traitor tear fell down his cheek.

He held Christine's waist, both arms wrapped around her. Then very gently lifted her off her feet, so that she would be level with his eyes. He wanted to say something, but words seemed to always escape him when confronted with raw emotion, and then he felt the soft embrace of flesh against his lips. Once again Christine had managed to surprise him. He waited for that inevitable moment when she would eventually be repulsed by him, when she would reject him and turn from him. For the moment though, he decided to revel in the sweet intoxication of Christine against his body. Her hands dwelled in his hair as shots of electricity shot through his body. Each touch was something new, something ecstatic.

Once again Erik was confronted with hesitation. Should he stop now, while the kiss is pure and just, or would heaven allow him grace?

As if on cue, his silent debate reached a verdict and Christine pulled away. Breathing a bit uneven she laid her forehead against his.

"I want more." The words just slipped out like a cunning thief. Erik didn't really know what would've brought the sudden desperation on, but when the initial shock of his blurted out confession subsided, he found himself truly wanting more. Perhaps it was his isolation from flesh, but he found his desperation worsening the longer their lips were parted. He thanked his mother momentarily, perhaps some of his restrained came from her.

Moments passed and Christine remained silent. He felt quite ashamed for not having more control over his physical needs. Setting Christine down, he wondered if heaven had denied him grace. Suddenly a frail, small body crashed against him forcing him to push out a leg behind him to keep an upright position. He felt small kisses through his shirt moving slowly to the bare skin exposed through his parted collar. Warmth spread through his body and made his head spin. Christine reached his chin then slowed down, only to force him to back up against the wall. Once his back touched the wall his restrained frayed, a thin thread holding him together.

Fervently, he started kissing her. He started on her shoulder moving slowly up to her neck. When he reached her lips a slightly muffled moan caught in her throat and only provoked him more. She was innocent in all the ways of the world; never experienced blood on her hands; never felt the warmth drain from a body under her fingers. But he had killed; he was dirty with the blood of innocent people. And yet for the moment they were equal. He was as innocent as she was in that instant, not knowing when to react on certain movements or how to motivate Christine to repeat the moan she had let out.

Instinct took over and hands roamed. Searching for purchase, seeking comfort, pulling closer. Christine had her body folded against his; no space was wasted between them. Sweat started to form on the back of his neck as the heat between them, in the humid tunnel, grew.

"When do I wake up?" he asked with a husky, uneven voice when they finally parted.

Christine's stomach churned at the tone his voice was laced with. "Never," Christine said smiling. "We can lose ourselves in a dream if we want to. We can make heaven jealous and people envious."

"When will we be one?" The question seemed to be the base of their existence at the moment. Christine brushed her lips against his, and then loosened her arms around his neck. A cold wind drew up from nowhere and replaced the warmth of her body.

"How soon will we leave this dismal darkness?"

In response he took her hand and started walking further away from the Populaire. Living in darkness for nearly a lifetime had taught him to seek out familiarities in dark places. Soon rays of light peaked through holes from the roof of the tunnel. At first it was small and few, but it gradually grew more intense, almost hurting their eyes.

Christine could hear the faint rustle of leaves, the song of birds and, perhaps, the distant chimes of a stream. A light could be seen in the distance; the end. Flutters of anticipation rushed in Christine's stomach. Only then did she realize the change in time. She didn't recall the rays of sun penetrating the windows of the opera house. Erik quickened his pace and the light at the end of the tunnel rushed closer.

They emerged into a beautiful forest, the cave behind them covered in ferns and flowers. A wooden structure stood obscured by small bushes of roses wildly growing in no pattern. Trees stretched to the heavens. The sky was blue and clear. It was a little piece of paradise.

Knots of emotion tied in Christine's stomach. How could the world show so little compassion toward a man with so much pure beauty? How could the people deny him happiness when he knew more of love than most faces she saw in crowds watching operas?

Christine walked curiously over to the wooden structure still hidden from her view, stopping frequently to smell a rose or touch a leave. Erik's gaze never wavered from her as his eyes followed her every move. At one point she turned to smile at him. In that instant his heart melted. She was his, at long last, and he would fight to keep her near him.

"Erik, would you join me?" her voice sounded sweet, but laced with a quality he did not yet understand. As he walked to where she waited she sang to him:

"**Pitiful creature of darkness... **

**What kind of life have you known? **

**God give me courage to show you,**

**You are not alone..."**

His chest swelled in pride and joy. The twinkle in her eyes did nothing to help to subside the swell of his heart. He smiled and he swore he heard her voice falter a bit. Tension instantly built inside him. He was certain, at a time, that Christine would've preferred to be traditional, but their shared moment of passion in the tunnels had blurred that certainty.

Would she be opposed?

When he finally reached her he picked her up in his arms and spinned her around a few times, which caused her to burst out in a fit of joyous laughter and he willingly joined in. When he had set her down she started to pull him in the direction of the wooden structure.

A small yet strong wooden cottage came into view. Sturdy walls and a strong roof held him hopeful all these dark long years. The windows were big enough to let in warm rays of welcome sun. His secondary home stood in complete contrast to his dark and dismal home he requited at the opera house. Whenever the curves of the caves became too secretive he would flee to this little corner of peace.

They stopped at the door. Erik gave her a quick kiss and then swung the door open…


	4. Chapter 4

_**Well, I finally finished the fourth one! I had quite the writers block, but here it is. I do hope you enjoy it :D also a big thanks to every review, pure inspiration. Thanks so much to Twilight's-Phantom for the awesome advice!**_

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Chapter 4

It seemed small, but the interior of the cottage and the size of the living room they stepped into were quite large compared to what the outside suggested. Christine curiously peered through the door. It was spacious, not at all cluttered. The ash of a previously lit fire collected in the fireplace. A bookcase, almost too full, covered a complete section of the rooms' wall. Scores upon scores filled the shelves. A desk, on which, Christine assumed, Erik wrote his plays, stood in the corner. Two loveseats, elegantly fabricated, took up the space in the middle of the room.

A sketched picture of herself caught her attention. Inspecting it closely she could make out the room where she used to light a candle in memory of her father. She was listening intently to the voice of an angel, her eyes were closed. She turned to Erik.

"You drew this?" She asked, quite surprised.

"You don't approve of it?" He wasn't sure which way this discussion could go.

"There is so much more left to learn about you, my dear." Christine walked

Christine stared into those deep pools of green and blue. She thought she glimpsed a tiny fraction of pain, hatred. His eyes softened and he took her hand. He gently pressed his lips to her hand then said:

"Christine, please know what you are giving up with me. I cannot force you to leave behind a normal, happy life for me. You will live with a deformation for the rest of your life, an imperfect creature that hides in the dark. I will never be able to offer you a perfect smile and the probability of perfect children is slim. A beauty like you should not be with a monster like me."

He had not once broken eye contact. He had stared into her eyes through each word, half pleading with her to understand his past and to be his future. Erik had had enough of his past; he wanted to build a future. He wanted to feel love, to give love. Christine had shown him that not every person judged accordingly to appearance, but that some people would take the time to seek out the perfect in an imperfect being. Years of hatred had tired him. He wanted to laugh, to live.

Never had Christine considered what might change in her life if she built her future with Erik, the infamous Phantom of the Opera. She hadn't seen her loneliness or isolation from people out there; the people who didn't understand Erik, who couldn't see the true beauty of a person. She would be giving up so much for the love of one man. One man… The only man to ever offer her a life that she wanted, to consider her as a woman and not an accessory. She loved Erik…

She didn't speak, not one word. She stroked his mask tenderly. She hated that mask right now. She wanted to show him exactly how beautiful he was. She didn't feel disgusted at the thought of what lay behind, hidden from the light of day. Christine pressed her lips to Erik's very softly. Erik did not think that he would ever be able to not be surprised by Christine; that he would ever get used to the sensation of her lips on his.

She started pulling of the mask and Erik went stiff. He wanted to pull back; he didn't want the deformations of his face to poison her love for him. Yet, he let Christine pull it off. His eyes were closed by the time she was holding it in her hands. She stared at the mask and wondered how humanity could be so utterly cruel. That the only little piece of freedom came in the form of a mask.

Then she turned and placed the mask on the desk behind her, placing it over her own drawn face. She turned back to Erik, his eyes still closed, and inhaled deeply. She had not yet since taking of the mask looked at him. Erik waited for that moment when his eyes would open and she would be gone. He would look out of the window and she'd be running away from him, not looking back. But what he had anticipated and what happened next were worlds apart.

Christine's hand was resting on his firm chest, the other stroking his left cheek as her lips, so soft and delicate, traced the deformed markings on his face. He refused to open his eyes lest this was a dream that he would be waking up from soon. Instead he revelled in the soft caresses her lips offered him. He had imagined that he might one day be so lucky to find a woman who would tolerate his hideous face. He thought he'd be lucky if a woman would accept the fact that he wore a mask, but this… He never expected a woman to love him for all he was.

The kissing stopped and he felt pressure on his shoulder.

"You are perfect." Christine whispered.

She had said that before, but then she wasn't looking at him. She was seeing him now… And he was perfect. He looked at her exquisite face and lifted a hand to her cheek.

"I need you, Erik."

His hand faltered and altogether his senses heightened. His eyes didn't blink and his breath caught. A warm feeling was slowly numbing him. Christine had a rosy paint colouring her cheeks. She still kept her eyes on him though. Suddenly Erik felt quite unsure of himself. He was on equal grounds with her. Never losing the innocence of passion.

"Are you certain, love? Are you certain you want me for the monster I…"

She kissed him. "You seem to talk too much. I don't love a monster, I love you." She kissed him again, a little longer with a little more passion. "Please, Erik, I need you. I want to show you exactly how much I love you. Once I gave you my mind, I gave you my heart, now I want to give you my body."

Mere moments passed by. Then suddenly Christine was held in two muscled arms, being rushed past doors. Some were open and she glanced the odd piece of furniture, but their end destination was making her stomach turn in knots of excitement, as well as nervousness. Adrenaline and hormones mixed together to make an odd sensation she had never felt before.

Erik walked through the last door in the corridor. A room larger than the rest, white as snow. An enormous bed was positioned against a white painted wall facing the window that would catch every sunset to come. Delicate winter trees, naked from leaves, were painted along the walls. Christine vowed to continue her inspection soon, but at that moment her mind was quite preoccupied. Erik was setting her down on a soft blanket neatly laid put on the bed. Before he had time to let her go she was pulling him down on her. She had a force for someone so frail and small.

They wasted no time in finding each other's lips and a passionate dance began. Her lips curved perfectly into his, her body felt right under his. Christine started tugging Erik's shirt out of his pants. As they caught their breath for a moment, she quickly slipped his shirt off. As Christine's lips moved over his now naked shoulders Erik couldn't shake the constructed feeling he felt. To his utter relieve Christine started undoing his pants. The moment they were loose enough he pulled Christine up. Still kissing her, he started undoing the strings of her dress. He cursed himself for choosing such a complicated dress for her part in his opera.

Her dress finally gave way, to reveal a rather tight and complicated looking corset… He was running out of patience and control. Christine felt the pressure lift of her and opened her eyes. Erik was searching through drawers and finally emerged with a sharp looking knife. He gently turned Christine on her side and cut every damned string holding her corset to her body. And then he suddenly realised that in a few moments Christine would be naked. Not yet completely exposed but naked. He found himself momentarily unsure of his movements, of his next move. But before he could he could dwell on his innocence too much, Christine was pulling him closer again. Her corset was still, disappointingly, stuck between them. He yearned to feel her skin on his, to press his chest to her breasts.

Christine tried to hide her uncertainties behind generous kisses. No man had ever looked on her naked body. She could already feel the heat rise to her cheeks again. Then, ever so sneaky, her corset was pulled from between them. She opened her eyes enough to see Erik tossing it to one side. She felt his muscles move against her skin as he tried to keep all his weight off her. She let her hands roam on his back, digging her nails at some places. Erik let out a pleading moan.

They were learning as they explored each other. Testing boundaries and pushing limits. Neither of them had ever experienced something this intimate. It was an intoxicating sensation that seemed to wrap itself around the very core of their minds. Any clear thoughts was banned, there was only lust and an endearing desperation to give each one to the other. There was love…

Erik was slowly kissing Christine down to her stomach. He started at her neck and slowly left a trail of warm kisses between her breasts -he would spend time on them later- down over her stomach, where he lingered for a while. Christine was lifting her hips up from the bed, begging Erik to remove her underwear; a request he gladly obliged. There she was, completely exposed, and she was beautiful. There was no flaw on her on her body. She was an angel, just pure perfection.

Christine could see the admiration in Erik's eyes. She saw love and lust mixed with something she had never seen before in a man. Desperation? Pride? His eyes were dark with passion. Insecurities finally drove Christine to pull the corner of the blanket up to cover her. Erik noticed her movements, and then gently stopped her by placing his hand on hers.

"You need not worry, my dear. Angels are jealous of the beauty painted before me."

A blush started sneaking its way to her cheeks. She pulled his face closer, past hers, so that she could whisper in his ear.

"I am yours." Then she kissed his deformed half of his face over and over again.

Erik felt a tear escape his bad eye, one that Christine had quickly kissed away.

She pushed Erik off of her so that he was now standing on the floor. She looked at him, biting her lip. Still sitting on the soft white bed, she placed her hands on his chest and started moving down. She stopped when her fingers brushed against the black material of his pants. Slowly his pants started being pulled down gently, her eyes never leaving his. Some part of him wanted to cover him, wanted to keep his pants on, but the more dominating part of him felt pride beyond comparison. He dreamt so many times before of making love to Christine. So many nights wasted dreaming how her hands would feel on his skin, to feel her soft lips on his, to touch her body.

Christine was still looking at him while his pants where sliding down. When her hands felt the skin of his legs she dropped her eyes and suddenly her eyes widened. He seemed so ready for her, so ready and so willing, but also so big.

Erik climbed on Christine again, forcing her to lie back down again. He kissed her softly, very sweetly. She wrapped her hands around his neck and twisted a leg around his. His member rubbed against her and she let out a moan, encouraging Erik.

"Erik… I need you, now."

Erik stared into her eyes, stroking her cheek with his thumb as he entered her. She closed her eyes and threw her head back. He stayed in her for a few moments so she could adjust. He slowly started thrusting in a smooth motion, rocking her almost. Slowly and sensually, he created a rhythm that was soothing. Christine's fingers were gripping the flesh on his back, her nails digging deep. She had wrapped her legs around his waist, making him go deeper.

Erik's mind was racing between complete and utter ecstasy and a deep, dark fear that he might at any moment wake up from a glorious dream. Opening his eyes, realisation slowly seeped through clouded visions. He was making love to Christine; she had finally given herself over to him completely. He laid his head on her cheek and whispered:

"I love you so much."

Hormones and ecstasy flooded every sensation Christine had. Every touch sent waves of sparks through her body, every word or sound uttered made her shiver. Erik was careful and slow, caring and generous. She had given herself to the one man she knew she loved, but she needed release…

"Erik…" Her voice was low and husky, tainted with the brush of seduction. "Give in to me."

Immediately seizing the opportunity he quickened his pace. Slow enough to remain comfortable, but also fast enough to be rewarded with Christine's pleasured moans. While her one hand was still gripping his neck, her other hand was pulling the covers in utter frustration. Erik thrust harder and deeper and faster… They were lost in the bliss of the moment, moaning each other's names.

Erik was sure to let Christine be first, this was her pleasure as much as his. Christine ended with a scream that caused her to lift her back of the bed and push her breasts to his chest. Soon after Erik had his climax, moaning her name as he collapsed on her, being careful not to let his weight crush her.

Heavy breathing and heat filled the room. Erik rolled to the other side of the bed, giving Christine breathing space. She went to stroke the arm that was lying next to her face. He stared affectionately at her. No matter of his horrid face, she loved him. His beauty came not from the surface, but swam beneath like the ocean concealed the wonders within.

She started kissing his fingers, moving to his palm, until he stopped her when she reached his bicep.

"You continue with that trail, dear, and we end up in the same position he were moments ago," he said cupping her small face in his hand, a smile playing on his full lips.

Christine looked up, her eyes were dark. "Would that really be the worst place to find ourselves lost in?"

Before he could answer her question, she placed her lips over his, making the words he was about to speak form a moan in the back of his throat. And their passion play continued…


	5. Chapter 5

_**Well, here's Chapter 5! I know I'm probably dragging Erik and Christine's intimacies along too much. I'm just trying to portray the "honeymoon faze" we have all heard about in their relationship. Also, I kind of made this Chapter way less strained, I want Erik to loosen up. I think I got that part down, I hope? Let me know, please! :)**_

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Chapter 5

Christine opened her eyes, heavy lids threatening to let them fall again. She stretched and felt odd sensations over her body. Not hurtful, only a tad uncomfortable. The previous night came rushing back to her and her lips curved into a smile. Still smiling she rolled over, throwing a lazy arm over Erik's torso. He was watching the sun's struggle as it fought to rise.

"Good morning, love," he said, his eyes still fixed on the sun.

Christine laid her head on his chest. He wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her close. Moments passed as they watched he sun waking up. This was the dream Erik had always been dreaming of; Christine wrapped in his arms, holding her and, by some miracle, she'd ne holding him too. He kissed her head. His dream was his reality…

"This, right at this moment, is what people call perfection," Christine whispered.

He thought about this for a moment and decided she was wrong. He didn't disagree with her, but this was not perfect. This was beyond perfect. Perfect was too mediocre to even compare the moment they were sharing. Not even heaven would compare.

"My dear, perfection is too much of a tortured pun. This is not perfect, not even in the slightest. Not for this moment at least. Mere words cannot be used to describe this beautiful moment."

He looked down to see Christine staring at him. The complete lack of any understanding in her eyes suddenly made him laugh. He started frowning. Laugh… He had just laughed, it felt strange, it felt exceedingly magnificent! He loved the very feeling it created inside of him. It wasn't most assuredly not his first experience, but sadly it was his first in too long.

Christine's brows were arched. He had casually laughed at her confusion. A smile started spreading over her lips into a beautiful wide grin, and then laughter engulfed her. She was laughing purely because she was happy; no other reason could explain her sudden burst of insane giggles. Her body was shaking as her melodious laugh filled the room. It was infectious too, for soon Erik was laughing again. It felt magical, just being able to laugh uncontrollably, as if each layer of hatred was being peeled away with each laugh.

"Not to sound too offensive, but your laugh was nothing like what I expected. For instance, I did not expect a choir of angles to cascade through your lips." Christine was still smiling, her eyes were sparkling with diamonds of happiness.

Erik laughed again; it was as if he was suddenly addicted to it. With every laugh he gave years of tension and anger just seemed to evaporate into happiness. Christine, what creature are you, he wondered. How could one person change his entire being? Everything he knew, everything he lived by, it was now left absolute. He was lying in bed with a beautiful woman, that in itself was a miracle, but what added to the true beauty of the moment was the complete honesty between them; nothing to hide. They were watching the sun rise higher, both completely naked. He slowly touched his deformed face and smiled.

"My dear, our excursions yesterday has left me quite famished. What slim chance would there be for food?" Christine was batting her eyelids while puffing her lower lip.

"I would happily show you the kitchen. You have, in our rush last yesterday, merely seen glimpses of your new home. I thoroughly intend to break each one in with you." His smile was devious. There was a gleam in his eyes that made her stomach knot and turn like summersaults.

Erik threw the covers of revealing his exceptionally well built body. A blush crept over Christine's cheeks, but she didn't do much to avert her eyes. As he staggered out of bed, stopping to stretch, she admired his back; muscled in all the most desirable places. She followed his spine down to where his muscles ended in that beautiful, perfect V. She dared to look lower… And stopped herself, just barely, from reaching out and touching him.

Erik searched the clothes drenched floor for his pants. Looking over every article that lay scattered made him smile at the memory of the previous day, a day that carried on late into the evening. As he covered himself up he spotted Christine's corset; the strings that held it together, tattered and torn, were scattered all around the white corset.

"I do apologise. I feel no mercy for a piece of fabric that kept you concealed from me, only shamed that I could not find a more constructive and gentle way to remove it." Erik didn't hide the smile, he didn't hide the obvious fact that he felt no shame at all, as he stooped to pick up his crumpled white shirt.

"Hand me your shirt, then," she said. "As you clearly pointed out I have little to cover me up now." She held out her hand, a mocking stern expression on her face.

Erik stared at the shirt he held in his hand very pensively, as if debating to himself in his mind which option to choose. He let the shirt drop back on the floor and crawled back on their white bed, hearing the fresh linen crunch under his weight. He only stopped until he was on top of Christine, not giving her any way of escape from under him.

"Well, my dear, what would your answer be if I let slip my little secret? Perhaps it was planned, or perhaps it was a happy coincidence. Whichever it may be, I am quite in delight at the sudden situation you find yourself in." He whispered every word, seduction dripping from his voice.

Christine wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her. She started to kiss him very slowly and sensually. He leaned in to her kissing her back with equal passion. In the spur of the moment he rolled over allowing Christine to lie on his chest. She placed kisses over his face, moving to his neck. She dragged her nails across his shoulders, down his arms as she kissed him over his chest. His eyes were closed as she neared his pants, anticipating the possibility of what might happen next.

And then, abruptly, it all stopped.

When he opened his eyes Christine was pulling on his shirt, a triumphant smile on her angelic face. She was cunning, he'd give her that. He had thought she was his prey, that she was in his mercy.

"**Sweet seductress that stole my heart,**

**why must you tempt me?**

**Your very eyes tear my soul apart…**

**This temptress of mine,**

**I burn beneath your passionate glare."**

Erik sung each word with unparalleled passion wrapped in each word, not at all disguising his complete need for her. Christine stared at him, intensely. She walked over to where he lay and came very close to is ear.

"My dear, your temptress is hungry. She will be in the kitchen preparing a large array of food." She kissed him on his cheek.

It suddenly struck Christine that she didn't know where the kitchen was. Still, she walked on; portraying confidence she didn't quite feel at that moment. She followed the corridor back to the living room. Her feet were suddenly picked up from under her, strong arms kept her from falling. She heard that beautiful deep laugh again and chimed in.

Erik carried her in his arms through doors; she didn't concentrate on how many for her eyes were locked on his exquisite face. Even with his deformities he was beautifully handsome. His eyes were a magnificent blue and green mixture of emotions. His lips, curved downwards slightly at the right corner. This little imperfection only made his smile more beautiful, so unique.

A cold sensation rushing through her body rapidly pulled her from her dreamy haze. When looking down she realised the cold source consuming her body came from beautifully placed marble stones that created the kitchen floor. The whole of the kitchen had a cave-like feeling to it.

Erik was already rummaging through the cupboards. Slowly food started piling up on the heavy wooden table that stood in the middle of the kitchen. Erik disappeared through a door momentarily, when he came through again he was holding a piece of meat in his one hand along with 4 eggs in the other. Christine assumed the door lead to the cold room. He had certainly thought of everything, then again, to her limited knowledge he could have made alterations over a long period of time.

"Now, my dear, marvel at my complete and utter talent for making ordinary ingredients into a succulent dish," Erik said smiling as Christine rolled her eyes at his obvious vanity.

She had never seen him so completely comfortable, not even that one magical musical night when he had introduced himself to her, when he had introduced her to the music of the night. Perhaps, she thought, he was willing to let go of his bittering past. She started humming to herself as she walked along the kitchen, letting her hand smooth every surface she passed.

Erik was so focused on his preparations that he very nearly didn't notice Christine's humming, more importantly, exactly what she was humming. He looked up from his preparations, an affectionate smile playing on his lips. He waited until Christine's humming would lead her to the song's chorus, he waited and then his beautiful rustic voice filled the kitchen, echoing from the walls.

"**Sing once again with me our strange duet;  
my power over you grows stronger yet.  
And though you turn from me to glance behind,  
the phantom of the opera is there  
inside your mind."**

Christine bit her lip as she looked at him, remembering that night they shared in his dark dungeon of a home. She remembered her complete and utter surrender towards his voice. She remembered the awe she felt towards him, the way her stomach turned in nervous flutters when he took her hands in his. He had opened up to her that night, The Phantom, and here they were content to just sing together, barely fully dressed.

"**Those who have seen your face  
draw back in fear.  
I am the mask you wear…"**

She did not hesitate to join him in, as he sung, their strange duet. Her voice was as angelic as ever and Erik melted away on her words.

"… **it's me they hear."**

His eyes were closed. He marvelled in his creation, her voice. He noted how fluently each word she sang rolled over her tongue through her lips. Her lips…

"**Your spirit and my voice in one combined;  
the phantom of the opera is there  
inside my/your mind."**

Their voices flowed perfectly together, mixing light and dark; the angel and the monster. They finished their duet, Christine crossing the distance as the last words of the last verse disappeared. His lips…

He placed his hands on either side of her face, holding it and just staring into her eyes. Anticipation started to boil inside him when he noticed the darkness in her eyes. Christine also stared at him, at his lips, then his eyes. Her hands were sprayed out against his chest. Both of them a little less innocent…

And then their lips met. Her arms flew over his neck as he picked her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, though he was strong enough to hold her up with ease. They were fervently kissing each other, wasting no time in simple games and small kisses.

He placed her on the stone counter as she, once more, undid his pants. He lifted his own shirt over her head and only took a moment to stare at her beauty. They were tangled in each other's arms and kisses, consumed by the fire of passion. Touching, smoothing, feeling each other's bodies. Christine wrapped her legs around his waist forcing him closer.

Erik pushed into her softly and gradually sped up his pace. Christine threw her head back in pleasure, both hands perched on the counter. Erik held her body close to his. Their erotic dance continued for a while, neither quite willing to end it. Erik, eventually, quickened his pace giving into the ecstasy again. Christine's moans echoed off the walls lending encouragement to Erik. Erik came first with pleased moan, followed by Christine.

Christine laid her head on his chest, breathing in the aroma that surrounded Erik. She looked up at him and found him looking down at her. He gave her that imperfect smile she absolutely adored and felt her heart melt.

"2 rooms have been fully broken into, my dear. Quite a few more to explore," he smiled turned coy. "I did mention that I intended to break every room in with you?"

"These days might get exceedingly interesting." Christine, once again felt the flutters in her stomach come alive.

Erik kissed her forehead, and then bowed down to pull his pants up taking his shirt with him; pulling it over Christine's head. After his shirt was fully covering her milky skinned body she pulled his face closer to hers and kissed him very sweetly.

"Honey, you are absolutely, beautifully wonderful."

"I love you."

They held each other for a few moments, happy in their silence, until a rumbling sound disturbed the peaceful silence surrounding them. Erik gave a light amused chuckle and went to finish their breakfast. They talked for hours on end, learning so much about the person they chose to spend eternity with.


	6. Chapter 6

_**So, this chapter really tried my patience! The first time I wrote it was on my PC and being a PC it has no back up memory. I was so close with the end and then we had a power outage. The second time was on my Laptop, well this is a funny one. I closed all my documents without saving it (keep in mind I was done this time). The third time my Laptops settings decided that they had to be compiled and once again I lost my whole chapter. So, here we go! Lol, finally... I hope it was worth the wait :)**_

_**Oh, and here's a quick shout out to all the reviews and readers! Thanks so much for the support, guys. It really brightens my day... Enjoy**_

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Chapter 6

Perhaps it was the wine they had consumed with dinner, or perhaps it was his emotional drive taking a high, but something made him reach for the drawer next to his bed as Christine lay sleeping beside him. The moon was bright that night and lit up the room with a beautiful white light. Erik stared at the black mass that covered his palm. He toyed with it, stroking it with his free hand.

He knew it, before he even knew it, he just knew. He smiled at his own mixed thoughts running through his head. He was nervous, that much he knew, and it felt exceptionally strange. He had rarely felt the wings of nervousness dance against his stomach. He looked at Christine. She had changed so much about him. She had made him so much better than he was.

He touched his face, a face he still struggled to love and, although, it would be a long struggle still, Christine had helped him accept himself. It had been 2 days since he last wore the mask that made him the Phantom. It left him feeling free and lighter, not needing to worry of the cries and the fears of others. Christine loved him and that's all that mattered.

He felt her stir next to him and heard her murmur his name. Again he smiled. He felt pride beyond comparison, love beyond ends and hope beyond limits. Nothing would be able to destroy him now. No person, no moment. Nothing!

He kissed the blackness that consumed his hand and placed it in the drawer once more. His mask stared at him from his bedside table; Christine had brought it to their room. He didn't feel anything looking at it. He didn't feel regret, but neither did he feel happiness. Loathsome feelings had also left his beating heart. He felt tranquil and peaceful. The mask had outlived its purpose.

Tomorrow he was going to show Christine every room, like he had promised. He was going to give her a tour she would not soon forget. Erik found himself suddenly grateful that he was not wearing his pants at that precise moment. It had been Christine's request that they just lie naked together, enjoying the feeling of their skin against each other, appreciating the warmth the other radiated. It was a simple request, much simpler than what most women wanted.

While Erik was counting his fortunes Christine was having a quiet dream. A little girl, she dreamt of this perfect little being laughing. She was beautiful. Her small mouth formed by two perfect pink lips, her big blue-green eyes lined with long dark lashes, her petite nose, and her curled brown hair. She saw the little girl smiling at Erik. Erik looked down at her and smiled back at her. She viewed them from their side, smiling too. Erik looked up at Christine then said something the little girl. She laughed and slowly turned so Christine could see her whole face. The smile on her face grew even wider. She had Erik's eyes as well as his deformed face. Her heart swelled as the little girl rushed to her. Her family…

Erik stirred next to her causing her to wake up. She could smell the crisp cool morning. She sighed and smiled at her fortune. Erik wrapped an arm around her.

"Good morning, my love," he said through kisses he planted on her neck. "I hope you are well rested for I intend to take you on that promised tour of the house you will be sharing with me." His voice rough was dripping with sexuality.

Christine turned to face him, his arms still wrapped around her. She let her hand stroke his cheek and stared fondly into his eyes. He kissed her passionately, not seductively, just lovingly. Suddenly the kiss was quickened as Christine took charge. Erik groaned as he tried to keep control of himself. He didn't plan on making love to her just yet, not in their room. He reluctantly softened the kiss. For a moment they just stared into each other's eyes until Erik struggled out of the sheets. He held out his hand to help Christine out as well. She happily took his hand. As she did so her eyes darted downward and she felt the slightest tug of pride at what she had accomplished.

Her feet had barely touched the floor when her legs were swept from under her and she found herself being carried through a door that she hadn't noticed until that moment, then again she had been quite preoccupied.

A beautiful big bathroom greeted her as they walked through the door. Windows, that covered a complete section of the wall, caught the canvas of a beautiful forest garden. A bath, that could very comfortably fit her and Erik, stood slightly to the middle of the room, yet closer to the wall. This bath was not the tin baths she were used to, but seemed to beckon her towards it. When she turned towards Erik she found him busy with some contraption.

Erik had become slightly more irritated with warming small amounts of water over a fire repeatedly, which led to this contraption. It was the same principle as any normal stove only bigger in comparison and it only warmed water. He started a fire under the white container and only turned to Christine as soon as he was certain the fire would not die.

"I have a small surprise for you, my dear," he said holding out his hand.

Christine took it and only as Erik moved to it did she notice the door that lead outside. He opened the door letting her through first. Four walls of smoothed stone greeted her; turning back she noted that the windows only started next to the wall. It had no roof and the sun was starting to peak up from over the walls. She noted a pipe of sort that came through the wall at a slightly declining angle. At the end of the pipe it formed a funnel looking head.

Erik smiled as she turned around slowly, confusion written over her face.

"This will be our rain on a sunny day, our little escape from normality."

He turned a knob that stuck out from the pipe and immediately water started pouring from the funnel head. The water was still cold but Christine was so marvelled with this man made rain that the coldness didn't bother her all that much. She started laughing and Erik noticed how beautifully her eyes sparkled.

Suddenly, without warning, she grabbed his arm pulling him closer. He laughed as she started swaying against him, forcing him to join in her dance. The danced and laughed for some time, enjoying the rain that made their skin wet. Erik only felt the change in water temperature when he could no longer feel her hard nipples against his chest. He yearned to feel them again…

Soft caresses that felt like feathers brushing his skin covered his chest. When he looked down he found Christine softly kissing his broad naked chest. Her naked body against his alone could drive him over the edge at that moment. But that was not what he had planned, not yet.

He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. His hands her firm butt, carrying her to the wall that caught the most water. He pushed her against it, still holding her in her arms. She started kissing him, avoiding his lips. His face, his neck, his shoulders and back to his neck. She hesitated just a few seconds and then bit down on the skin that pulled tightly on the muscles of his neck. Erik groaned as he struggled to keep himself composed. If only she knew the power she had over him at that moment.

His lips eventually found hers. Her arms around his neck pulled her closer to him. Ah, blessed, he thought, her nipples. A shiver ran through him. She pulled back, ending the kiss.

"I love you," she said looking into his eyes.

Words had suddenly escaped him and all he could do was bringing his face to hers, once again lost in her water wetted lips. Christine moved her hips around slightly, manoeuvring herself enough to have his member rubbing against her. Erik groaned again; she was teasing him. She laughed at his reaction, a kind of devious laugh. And then she let him slide in her.

That alone could have sent him diving into his climax, but he refused to give in just yet. He pushed Christine harder against the wall allowing him an easy position to thrust into her. He started a slow rhythm; it caused soft moans from Christine. But at this pace he was probably the only one reaching his climax. His rhythm quickened and her moans grew louder.

His head rested on her shoulder as he concentrated on not giving in just yet. He'd know when and he prayed it be soon. He slid in and out of her in quick pace. Christine's nails dug into his back which made fighting all that much harder, but it also told him that his goal was close; he would soon be allowed a release. He started thrusting two slow thrusts followed by three quick ones. This seemed to cause Christine exceptional pleasure as she started moaning his name.

A shiver went down her spine and she knew her climax was close.

"Erik…" Her voice was laboured with heavy huffs. "Give in to me, Erik."

And that was his undoing. He burst inside her, filling her with his warmth. In turn this caused her to climax as well. It was powerful, both of theirs. It seemed to last for long moments as they caught their breaths. Erik set her down again, kissing her forehead as he did so. He turned the knob and suddenly the rain stopped. He led her inside and quickly went about with his contraption. Christine hovered, searching the bathroom with her eyes for towels, but before she had the chance to spy one she was being dragged back to their room, still soaking.

Erik turned to face her, his back to their bed. He opened his mouth to say something, but not one word left his mouth. Christine pushed him on their bed, climbing on him, trailing kisses across his chest as she did so. At one instance her breasts rubbed against his member he found himself ready once more. He struggled to focus as she moved back down; again letting her breasts rub against his now hardened member. She laughed in delight. Something told him that if given the chance she could be devious.

As Christine made her way up to his neck he grabbed her face, kissing her tenderly.

"You will be the death of me, woman." He smiled tenderly and she kissed him again.

She wanted to continue, she wanted them to make love again. And even after his exceptionally powerful climax he knew he wanted it too, but he needed to finish something else first. He gently stopped her, taking a hold of her shoulders. She sat up, her hands resting on his chest. The way her arms came together made her breast form a cleavage, but her nipples still peaked at him.

His head dropped back and he gave a chuckle. Then looked up again.

"I… We need…" He cleared his throat. "I have a gift for you."

"I need no gift, just us… Forever." She smiled at him.

"Nevertheless, I want to present you with one."

He started getting up, and Christine threw her leg with ease over him. He only spends a second to think on it as he made his way over to his bedside drawer. He took out something that seemed black to Christine, but hid it behind his back before she could inspect it any further. She wrapped the covers over her exposed body. It took Erik a moment to decide how he would go about this. Thus, he also scooted under the cover closer to her.

"Christine," he said and she could hear the nervousness breaking his voice. "I know not what your stands on tradition his, but I would like you to at least have a taste of it." His hand came from behind his back. "I love you. I have even in the shadows. No person has ever showed me the compassion and love you have. You gave yourself to me… completely." He stared at a now visible black box. "I want to offer you something in exchange for all you have given me." He opened the box and something sparkled against his chest. "I want to offer you myself." He turned the little black box to her revealing a beautiful frail ring. "Will you marry me?"

It took Christine a few moments to understand the scenario. She stared at the ring. It was small and silver, a small diamond was set in the middle. It was beautiful. On the right side of the diamond a small mask was engraved that played on his right face. She looked up at him, eyes still wide.

"Yes!" Her eyes were still wide, not fully understanding what was happening, but not hating it either.

Erik smiled proudly and took her hand. He slipped the ring on her finger and threw the box behind his back as her lips met his. She was his fiancé…


	7. Chapter 7

_**Hay there! So, I really hope you like the direction I'm taking with the story. I didn't want to make Raoul a bad guy, I mean I don't hate him, I just prefer Erik :D I'd appreciate your thoughts!**_

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Chapter 7

Christine felt nervous as she rode in to town. She hadn't been there since the Opera Populair disaster, since the night she finally appreciated the Music of the Night. She smiled remembering her and Erik's chaste moments of passion in the chambers below the theatre. She remembered her heart's palpitations and the nervous prickles that tickled her stomach.

Her smile soon faded. She had, for intents and purposes, been missing for the last few weeks. She didn't dwell on the reaction she would face nor on the greeting that awaited her. She only hoped she wasn't walking into an ambush that her pursuers had no knowledge of. She pulled at her already neat dress. She was nervous, so she hummed…

She hummed his songs and wondered if the words tasted as sweet on his tongue as his lips tasted on hers. She hummed away the doubt she had, the fear she felt and the rejection she deserved. She hummed away the time it took the carriage to reach the town. She kept humming when she could see the buzz of people all around her. She only stopped when she reached a small house, more fittingly called a cottage.

She sat, unable to climb from the carriage. Her heart hammered against her chest in anticipation. From her part she didn't need a big wedding; she would have been perfectly content with her and Erik standing before the Priest. In fact, the Priest didn't really matter all that much as well. But it was Erik's wish that she experience the love of surrounding family and friends. Although she didn't have family anymore, she did have people close to family.

Her steps were slow and small, deliberately so. She hadn't the slightest clue what she would utter when that door swung open. She didn't know if the words she could give would be sufficient to explain her actions, but she needed to try. If not for herself, for Erik.

She knocked…

The door swung open and her mouth nearly touched the dusty ground. She had planned to ask Madam Giri as well as Meg to her wedding personally. She wanted to explain her actions and her disappearance, but most of all apologise.

"Christine?" Raoul's uncomprehending eyes blinked a few times, as if his blinking could clear an image.

"Raoul." She did not come for him and yet here he was staring at her as if she was a ghost. She cleared her throat. "I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience, but is Madam Giri and Meg available?"

"You can't possibly expect me to be satisfied with that as the first words you speak to me," Raoul wasn't mad, it didn't seem so, but he was shocked and clearly expected more of an explanation.

"Very well, if you would be so kind as to gather Madam Giri and Meg I would happily explain my actions, thought I doubt you will be satisfied then either." She stood her ground, not faltering before a man.

Raoul inspected her a few more minutes until he disappeared in the gloomy house. Her next surprise literally slammed into her. Meg had her arms wrapped around her neck, hugging her furiously.

"I hate you," she whispered through silent tears that threatened to turn into delighted laughs. "I've missed you."

When she finally let Christine breath Madam Giri was leaning against the doorframe. She looked weaker than usually, perhaps Christine's sudden arrival had given her such a shock that her strength left her.

"Christine, you're standing on my doorstep. It's really you." Her hand came out and stroked her cheek.

"I have so much to explain," Christine said as her eyes sparkled with tears that threatened to spill. "I don't expect you to understand or to accept my reasons; all I ask is an ear and a moment." Her head was bowed down and she didn't dare look in Raoul's direction.

"Come in, child." Madan Giri moved to allow Christine enough space through.

Meg led them to a small room that served as the living area. Three single chairs and a loveseat took up the entire room. It seemed as if they weren't doing well for themselves the last few months, not since the theatre burned down.

"Would you like anything to drink?" Madam Giri asked being a good hostess.

"If you don't mind, Madam Giri, I'd prefer to have my say." Christine felt like a child returning home after a runaway turned wrong.

"Please," Madam Giri said waving a hand as she sat down.

Christine was in a state of confusion. She was accepted as easily as the day her father died and yet she sensed a different mood towards her. She looked at each pair of eyes staring at her; from Meg to Madam Giri ending with Raoul.

"I did not come back to ask forgiveness for my actions, I'm not even sure I can call it 'coming back'. I'm not intending on staying, because I have a life of my own now." She was assertive and sat upright. "I do not intend you to understand why I have done what I did, for I truly struggle to understand my own choices as well, but I don't regret them." Not one word was uttered from anyone, so she continued. "I am sorry for everything that has happened since. The disappearance, the heartbreak, the silence. It was not my intention. Do not mistake my apologies for weakness. I will not be leaving him, in fact we are engaged."

"You seem to forget that you are in fact, for all intents and purposes, still my fiancé, Christine." Raoul's eyes were gleaming with a dark feature that could only be anger.

"I understand how that can be deducted, but no. I am no longer your fiancé, Raoul."

Dejection replaced the anger that flared on his face. "I always knew you loved him. Does he make you happy?"

Christine's expression softened as she looked at Raoul. "Yes, he does. He gives me more than I could have hoped to receive." She turned to look at all of them again. "He is not a monster. He has been laughed at, he has been treated like an animal, been put on display for people's amusement, but he is not a monster. Once he was given compassion and love he changed. He was at peace with himself and he has forgiven the people who wronged him. I don't judge him on his appearance, for it matters not. He feels and hears and hurts just like me and you. I cannot make you forget his past sins, but I ask you not to judge him so harshly on it." She paused. "I did not come here to sell him, I came to give you these," she handed the invitations to Madam Giri and Meg, "and to invite you personally to our wedding." She looked at Raoul. "I had no idea that you were doing rounds here, but I think it best if you are not invited." She put a hand on his knee and he stiffened to which she quickly pulled her hand back. "I'm sorry, Raoul. One day, I hope to earn your forgiveness."

"Christine, why did you run off with The Phantom?" Meg was cautious, but curious. Hurt swam just beneath the surface of her eyes.

"Erik," she answered.

"Excuse me?" Madam Giri said paying better attention.

"His name is Erik." She turned to Meg again. "He makes me happy, Meg. He inspires me as I inspire him. We can be completely silent around each other and yet know how the other feels. We take chances together. We do everything together. I am his equal, perhaps not in physical strength, but he treats me as his equal. He urges me to be more powerful in my live, to take control." She sighed. "Why'd I run off with him? That night I was supposed to expose him, I stopped and thought where my heart was at. I looked at the faces of hundreds of people staring at him as if he was some obscure scene, and I realised that he was merely human. Just as easily killed and hurt as any of us. As we sang I wondered if he had ever yearned to feel the love we sang of. I wondered if he was ever shown love, unconditional love, not a feared respect, but love. I realised the only reason I withheld myself from him was because I didn't truly believe he was human until that moment." She paused again. "I was infatuated with him, with his voice. Infatuation grew into admiration and lastly love."

For moments no one dared to disturbed the silence that followed her words. She stared at her hands waiting for someone to break the silence.

"I loved you." Raoul was staring at her unbelievingly. "You run off with a murderer when I loved you? I would have died for you, Christine." His eyes fell to the ring that enveloped her finger. "But I was lying to myself. I fooled myself thinking that I could be enough for you to forget The Phantom of the Opera. I was a fool for thinking that I could ever replace the part of him that filled up your heart and mind. I foolishly hoped that you would open yourself up to me as you have to him." His hand touched hers momentarily. "I'm glad you're happy, Christine, and I wish you no ill moments."

She smiled a small smile at him. "I hope one day you can feel what Erik makes me feel."

She did not miss the glance he and Meg exchanged at her words and hoped that love would bloom for them one day, with each other or not.

"Please consider my invitation. It was on Erik's insist that I came bearing them. I was willing to be wed with the Priest as the only witness. But I would love it if you were to attend. It will be small, no more than ten people, perhaps. Please consider it," she pleaded.

On her way over she had doubt clouding her mind, but now she was realising how much she yearned for their presence.

"My dear, I would not miss this. You might not be my daughter, but you are as close to a sister that Meg will have. I will be in attendance." Her warm smile made her very thankful towards Erik.

"As will I," Meg said as she smiled towards Madam Giri.

A peaceful atmosphere surrounded them momentarily as they sat in silence.

"Pardon me, ladies, for I must take leave." Raoul stood up and shortly after Christine followed.

"I must bid you farewell too, as the road home is long."

"Where is home, Christine?" Raoul asked and in response Christine just smiled.

Madam Giri greeted them both in the living room and excused herself to her quarters while Meg escorted them out.

"Good day, fair lady," Raoul said as he brought Meg's hand to his lips.

Meg blushed and pulled her hand away as she looked at Christine with big eyes. She held her hand behind her back as if to discourage the thought from her mind.

"Christine," Raoul turned to her, "I bid you a wonderful wedding and a happy life." And then he was gone.

"Does he still wear the mask?"

"No," Christine said smiling, "he finally accepted himself." She paused and pursed her lips. "Although he is still very reluctant to be around people as they tend to stare still. Whispers of The Phantom circles, but without his mask people tend not to recognise him." She smiled again. "Of course a hand of encouragement enveloping his helps."

She hugged Meg and bid her farewell. On her way home she couldn't help but wonder if Raoul was seeking comfort in Meg or if he truly felt something for her. That thought left her mind quickly though, as the joy of reconciliation with two very important people in her life started seeping through.

She didn't realise how much she'd missed them until she was begging them to consider her offer of invitation. In the past few weeks she had only once been to town. It was the first time Erik risked being seen without his mask. Though he didn't grab the mask, he did try to cover his face with a wide brimmed hat that made him look like a musketeer. Instead he opted for a classy fedora.

People stared at him and they whispered behind his back, but she was proud of him. He was risking public humiliation to give her as much of a normal life as he could offer. He promised her that he would get better with time and she did not doubt him in the slightest.

Time passed so much more slowly on her way home. It felt as if the carriage moved at a snail's pace. Minutes dragged on and she found herself frustrated with the slow pace. She wanted to be in his arms, to hold him and feel him, but it seemed that time was keeping her from him.

Eventually she could see the rose bushes that told her she was close. As she neared the cottage the shared, she saw him sitting on stool that she hadn't noticed until weeks after her living there. Her heart made a jump and she started to smile, unable to hide her excitement.

She didn't wait for the carriage to stop; instead she waited for it to slow down and then jumped from it, almost falling. Erik stood up, laughing in amusement at her rush to get to him. She recovered her balance easily and was running to him as he opened his arms to her. She nearly caused him to fall over as she crashed into him. He wrapped his arms around her lifting her up and kissing her. With the rush of the moment still fresh in her body, his kiss added something that made her heady.

"You're in high spirits," he said when they broke their kiss.

She laughed and started kissing him again. She stopped very abruptly then took his arm pulling him inside their home. Before the door was closed his shirt was already discarded and she was planting kisses wherever she could…


End file.
